A Bowl of Stupid

I’ve mentioned this here before, and during the past month or so, it’s been bothering me more and more often.

Yes, there are a great many (obvious) perks that come with not having a job and living off of savings in the bowels of Southeast Asia — surfing, eating, and waiting for the day when it’s both practical and fiscally sound to return to the real world (given the state of the current financial crisis that has expanded into almost Biblical proportions, I still don’t think that time has yet arrived).

But there is a huge downside to the whole no working, surfer bum, ‘drop out‘ thing — it sometimes feels that I have absolutely no purpose but to sit around and wait a seemingly ever-increasing amount of time for the next surf and/or yoga session.

Some deeper part of me knows this is just a phase I go through when there’s no surf for an extended period of time (in the movie Riding Giants, Laird Hamilton compared it to being a dragon slayer when there are no dragons). And I also know that I’m better off seeing the reality of not having any true purpose, rather than still being one of the multitude confounded by the illusion of purpose.

It took me 10 years to realize that 90% of the work I did in my prior life as a lawyer — brokering money between wealthy people — contributed nothing to the world, or to my soul. A vapid, soulless existence.

I sometimes feel I’m descending into that same void again — contributing and doing virtually nothing with my life.

On the bright side, I can at least see it for what it is. But it doesn’t make things any easier. In fact, it may be worse in some respects.

I’m in the midst of living out a dream — doing exactly what I wanted to do right now. But I’m still bored, and restless, and I’m getting tired of living this way — where every day is exactly the same.